Growing Blaze
by Quwinntessa Starber
Summary: Sequel to Whispered Fire Willow must find her two missing Kings. But could the arrival of her Kings cause more pain than she and Spike can take?
1. Alliances

Growing Blaze  
Prologue: Alliances  
  
"Let me make sure I understand what it is exactly you are asking of me. You contend that the new mate of your GrandChilde is a newly risen Queen, that she is in my city without an announcement, and you would very much like it if I would send a car around to pick her up and deliver her here. Correct?" The accent was old and thick, the old English sound mixed liberally with a heavy portion of Italian. But the voice that spoke it was pleasant, regal, and Angelus knew, ancient. It was a sound no wise vampire ever forgot, it was the sound of Elizabeth, the White Queen of Rome.  
  
Nodding, Angelus shifted on the satin covered couch, the back of his hand going immediately to rest reassuringly against Xander's hair. "My sources tell me that she's quite powerful--"  
  
Elizabeth laughed, her perfect corkscrew curls shifting around her like a living wheat field. "My dear Angelus, if you came all this way to play with me, I'll have no choice but to turn you out. I find I have no time in my old age for games that have nothing to do with me." Eyes as green as the Elysian Fields sparkled with both mirth and a warning all to clear to any male, and Angelus nodded before trying again.  
  
"Drusilla has foretold another prophecy. Whatever Willow has become, she's no ordinary Queen. My Childe is insane, but make no mistake, her prophecies are never wrong."  
  
Perfectly manicured nails rose to full, pouty lips as Elizabeth nodded silently. Decades ago, he'd brought Drusilla here to repeat a prophecy she'd spoken while hunting in the German foothills. It was why he could come here now and beg a favor from a Queen as ancient as Elizabeth. The prophecy had spoken of a coo between the Orange Queen of Russia and the Green Queen of Germany. What started as an assassination attempt against Elizabeth progressed into World War I and II, but that mattered little. Elizabeth owed him a blood debt, and now was his time to collect.  
  
The sound of silk on satin shifted his attention and Angelus watched with much anticipation as Elizabeth rose and walked to the south side of the massive reception room. The wall was made entirely of mirror, and Angelus watched as she cast no reflection.  
  
"Tell me more about this woman. You say she is only a child?"  
  
Slowly he nodded, collecting his thoughts. "Willow was a human girl born on the Hellmouth in the States. She befriended the Slayer about four years ago and worked with her to guard against the vampires."  
  
Elizabeth nodded, the long gauzy sleeves of her dress swaying as she paced. "Yes, I had heard the Slayer was using mortal help in her war." Then she turned and fixed her fathomless eyes on his. "I also heard story of a certain master vampire who had lost his soul after falling in love with the Slayer and betraying his own Childer. In fact, I heard his GrandChilde was nearly killed. Strange the goings on in the States-- American's are so temperamental."  
  
Shamed by her words, Angelus looked down at his hands. "You hear quite a bit this far from the source, my lady. I am ashamed to say the stories are true. I did fall in love with the Slayer, and I did lose the shelter of the soul I was cursed with, and I did betray my Childer." He lifted his gaze then, his eyes hard with determination. "However, circumstances have changed, and now I search for my GrandChilde and his mate."  
  
That smooth, distinguished accent once again cut him off. "To what end, Angelus? Why do you seek your GrandChilde and his mate? If the stories are true, William has chosen The Way of The Lost, and you have no claim on him or his chosen mate, Queen or no."  
  
The demon inside him rose at the mention of The Way of The Lost. William could be brash and even foolish at times, but he was not The Way of The Lost, at least not yet. Inside his mouth, fangs elongated, and on his face, the demon fought to the surface and begged to rip into human flesh to quench the rage flowing through his veins. William was not The Way of The Lost; Spike belonged to him.  
  
From across the room came a dignified scoff. "Leash the demon, Angelus, it has no place here. I asked but a simple question and the answer is more than obvious to me, but I will hold my observation until I know more about this Queen. Continue, I desire to hear more." With a snap of her fingers a servant arrived caring a glass of blood wine, and though she took it, she offered none to him.  
  
With a deep and unnecessary breath, he produced the human mask and continued Willow's tale. "The Slayer had many interesting human's working with her, but she also had a Werewolf. The boy's name was Oz--"  
  
For the first time that night, Xander spoke up, his eyes alight with righteous justice and the markings of insanity. "Fur rug! We're going to gut him and give him to Willow as a present. She'll be so happy we gave her a present. I never got her anything good for her birthday, but this year I'll get her something she'll really like. I'm going to wrap it in green foil paper, just the way she likes it. She'll be so happy, and then we'll get ice cream and things will be good again, you'll see." And just as suddenly as his words had come, they drifted off again, and once more, Xander Harris stared straight ahead and did not make a sound.  
  
A long pause filled the quiet room as Angelus worked his fingers lightly through Xander's hair, calming himself more than the boy.  
  
He was startled when Elizabeth broke the silence. "He's touched."  
  
Angelus spared her a look before resting his hand along Xander's neck. "Xander and Willow were childhood friends. Willow was betrayed by her then boyfriend Oz, who chose a tryst with the Slayer." The Queen cocked her delicate eyebrow. "She chose death and sought out Spike. What happened between them I don't know, but Spike took her somewhere and something bloomed between them." His eyes saddened for a moment as his presence elicited no response from the boy beside him. "No one knew this of course, believing instead that Willow was dead, a bloody sweater all the proof some needed. The Slayer was blasé about it; however, Xander suffered greatly as he tried to convince others she was still alive. In the end, his pain reduced him to this. I seek William for myself, we have much to work out between us, but I seek Willow for Xander." His voice softened, "He did better when he could hear her voice."  
  
China-white fingers stretched to cover his hand that had moved over Xander's cheek and he watched startled as the White Queen looked deeply into his eyes. "You miss understand child, this boy is touched not in mind but in spirit. An aura surrounds him through which I cannot see. To you, he is insane, but he is not. His mind drifts between here and somewhere else as if a leaf on the wind." She turned from his shocked expression and looked fully at Xander's face. "You say, Drusilla thinks this Willow is something special?" He nodded dumbly, his hand still pressed against Xander's cheek. "As you said, Drusilla is never wrong, and this boy seems to prove she is indeed something unusual. She's nothing but mortal? Nothing unusual about her before William chose her?"  
  
Angel nodded, and then immediately shook his head. "She's human, but before she disappeared she was experimenting with magic. She had her sights set on becoming a witch to help the Slayer."  
  
This piqued Elizabeth's interest. "A witch, you say, hm, most curious. Prophecy's come in two's and three's--as you know--and I have heard from my contacts in the Watcher's Counsel that they have recently unearthed a prophecy concerning a witched made Blood Queen. I confess to thinking nothing of it at the time, but now it seems rather poignant." Suddenly she stood, and moved to the couch across from him before seating herself and staring quietly somewhere above his head.  
  
This was all more than he expected. He'd come to Elizabeth because she owed him a favor, and with Spike and Willow in Rome doing the Powers knew what, she was the only way he could track them down and speak with them. He should have known nothing was as easy as it seemed when dealing with the oldest Blood Queen in the world. She'd received him well, even accepting Xander with little more than a raised eyebrow and a knowing smile, but as usual, things were taking a dramatic turn; what he didn't know yet, was if they were for better or for worse.  
  
"Angelus?" He looked up and nodded. "I believe I would like to meet this young Queen of Spike's. I'll arrange for Darres to bring her here tomorrow evening. In the mean time, you and your human are welcome to stay here." Rather suddenly she rose and held out her hand, palm up, and waited.  
  
It was a gesture not given lightly to anyone. Centuries ago, he and Elizabeth had had a mild liaison, a union that produced no bond but that of limited trust. But this, this was more than could have ever been expected.  
  
Slipping to his knees before her he took her hand and gently kissed her palm. The demon came next, the promise of Queen's blood as strong a call as ever. His tongue stole across the inside of her wrist, before his fangs sliced across her skin and drew the oldest blood in the world.  
  
He took only a few drops, but the ancient mixture flew to his head, making the world crystal clear; making every detail as defined as that of a microscope. The light was a thousand times brighter, but his eyes just as able to adjust. It was a taste of the closest thing to power any male could come too, and it was a most heady taste at that.  
  
By the time his senses returned to normal Elizabeth was long gone. Shaking his head he turned to see that Xander was still in the same spot, his eyes still locked on something only he could see. Shifting, Angelus moved back onto the couch and gently kissed Xander's temple. His feelings for the boy had continue to grow over the months, and now as the mystery behind Xander's fading consciousness was becoming clearer, Angelus knew they would only continue to grow. For some reason, Xander was special to him, special in a way that had him wanting to protect the boy, despite what he was. Whatever the reason, the boy needed his care, and he had every intention of giving it to him.  
  
Standing, he guided Xander to follow, and then turned to the door and nodded once to the vampire waiting there to show them to their quarters. The going was slow, Xander walked as if in a dream; but he didn't rush them, there was no need. Elizabeth would find Willow and bring her here, and knowing Spike he'd spare no time in following. He'd get his family together, hash out their differences and then settle them in one of his many homes across Europe, far from America and the Slayer. He'd set things right, make them into the way they should have been. He'd claim Spike, Xander, and Willow once and for all, and let hell figure out the rest. 


	2. Sick As A Dog

Chapter 2:  
Sick as a Dog  
  
Spike wrapped his strong arms protectively around Willow's shaking frame. Lightly he kissed the back of her bright auburn hair. "I'm so sorry Luv, if I'd have thought you'd be at all sick, I never would have brought you here," he soothed as he ran his hands across her damp forehead.  
  
Silently Willow nodded, not trusting her voice as the evil waves emanating from the Hellmouth washed against her heightened senses. Slowly she lifted her shaky hand and rested it against Spike's biceps.  
  
With a low soothing sound he reached down to draw yet another cover over Willow. Her shields had held strong for the first few days, but after a week the essence of evil had reduced her to a shaking mess. He'd given her his blood on the fifth day--with much improvement, but the effects had worn off within a day and it was too soon for another exchange.  
  
A soft moan escaped her lips as she cautiously rolled over and buried her face against his chest. Her head was killing her and her insides felt like knots whenever she breathed. It was like drawing poison into her lungs, the evil polluting her body. All Willow wanted to do was crawl home to Windemere. She knew Spike had wanted her to enjoy Rome but as the magic had settled into her system, extremes of any kind caused her discomfort.  
  
After being touched by the Goddess she'd felt invincible, but that feeling had quickly dissipated after a trip into town to collect her weekly dollhouse piece. It had been All Saints Day, and the local church was hosting an all night vigil. As the car had passed the church she'd felt the stirrings of discomfort but it wasn't until later when she and Spike had passed it on the way to the tavern that she'd truly felt the full impact of that holy place.  
  
She should have figured it out, she was getting complacent letting Spike take care of her all the time. He'd had to carry her for three blocks when she'd collapsed that night, but they hadn't realized it had been the church. She wanted to kick herself for not figuring it out in the first place.  
  
The unease had grown from the moment the plane had begun to circle the airport. But the second her feet had touched the ground, she'd understood. Now she was miserable and unable to seek relief from the welcoming evil of Spike's blood to balance her system. It would be days before she could seek that relief, and the knowledge that the hours would be filled with so much pain, brought tears to her eyes.  
  
Cool fingers caressed the back of her neck, and she didn't know if the feeling was comforting or painful. But as always, Spike's voice soothed her frazzled nerves, calming her spirit, "Luv, I know you don't want too but it's been two days, you have to eat something."  
  
Squeezing her eyes tightly she shook her head but Spike rapped his fingers against her spine in a silent reprimand. "You're eating and that's it. Now, what sounds good?"  
  
Hesitantly she raised her head to glare at him before conceding his point. "Ice cream, cake, sweets. No meat," she groaned, "Oh please no meat." His hand went back to petting her hair as she lowered her head back against the pillow.  
  
She could hear the smile she couldn't see. "Gelato. It's an Italian ice cream--well not really, since there's no ice, but you get the point. It's packed with good old-fashioned butter, fat and other cancer causing ingredients, " he paused then, "I'll get you two.  
  
"I think I saw a sweet shop when we checked in." He kissed her damp forehead, "Will you be alright without me for a few minutes? I can't imagine it'll take more than ten--"  
  
Her hand came up to cover his lips. "If you're going to go, then go." She knew she was being short but her head was pounding, her stomach was turning, and she suddenly felt all around worse.  
  
Ever the gentleman poet, Spike kissed her fingertips and then carefully rose from the bed, sliding a pillow into his place so Willow had something to lean against. Reaching over her, he picked up the key and clicked off the sidelight, dropping the room into blue twilight. He didn't want to leave her, didn't want to take a step out of that room knowing she was sick because of him. But she needed to eat and his inability to take her with him was the only thing prompting him to leave her at all. You'd think the Presidential Suite would have all night room service, but it was sanctioned under the same 1am rule as the rest of the hotel, and he knew it would take longer to argue than to just go and get it himself. Slowly, he skimmed his hand over her hair one last time before walking across the room to slide into his coat. He was surprised when he heard her sitting up, his eyes flashing over to catch her pale complexion.  
  
Her voice was tired as she apologized, "I'm sorry I snapped at you. Be careful, you know how those ice cream men can be." He saw her smile in the darkness. "I love you, Will."  
  
It was a new thing for her, calling him Will. She said it was more intimate than Spike, and maybe a part of him agreed. He liked the way his old name rolled off her tongue, like liquid honey. On the other hand, it was a different thing all together. In the old days, no one but his drinking buddies would have called him Will instead of William--not that he had any of those--so to hear her call him that in her soft, silky voice, it definitely put a new spin on that age old name.  
  
"I'll be careful Luvie. You get some rest, I shouldn't be more than twenty minutes or so." He watched as she slid back under the covers, listened to the uneasy draw of breath she took, and tried not to shudder. He had to leave now or he never would.  
  
Duster draping his long body, he swirled towards the door, the fabric catching in the breeze.  
  
Darres watched as the blond vampire left the building, his famous black leather duster exiting the door moments behind him. Spike was a legend in and of himself; there wasn't a vampire alive that didn't know the history around that leather jacket. Masters told Childer, and Childer told minions, and so it went that the jacket of the Slayer became a symbol of vampire victory.  
  
The blond had no idea of course. He'd been on the Hellmouth so long, shut away so long with that crazy bitch Drusilla, he had no idea how truly famous he'd become. On the other hand, that was probably a good thing, considering how Spike dealt with fame.  
  
With eyes that had witnessed the rise and fall of empires, Darres watched Spike round the corner before giving the signal. Instantly, six Childer moved out of the shadows and walked knowingly into the Grand Hotel Parco dei Principi.  
  
Hitching his duster up around his face to conceal his identity, Darres mounted the marble steps and walked through the door Marcus held for him. The rich warmth of the reception room filled him with a sense of Victorian opulence. Chandeliers adorned the ceiling, casting a warming glow on the rich burgundy wood of the counters and furniture.  
  
With another nod, three Childer moved towards the elevators, while Richard cast a quiet spell that forced onlookers to glance away.  
  
When the doors opened, the elevator operator was quickly silenced, and his group moved stealthy into the lift and quickly began their assent. To his right, Marcus produced a keycard and swiped it, allowing them access to the presidential suite, and their prize.  
  
The deep Italian filled the quiet elevator, but Darres shook his head and answered in English. "We are not to frighten her. We grab her and exit the way we came. Richard will conceal our exit. Rafe will have the car outside when we arrive." He turned to look sharply at his men, Childer he'd given the gift to centuries ago so that they now worked together as a flawless team, no matter what the situation. "Thomas, do you have the envelop?"  
  
"Yes." Said the smaller, stockier man towards the back of the elevator, using English as he knew Darres would want them too while handling the woman.  
  
"Good."  
  
Then there was nothing more to say.  
  
When the elevator opened, it was directly into the reception room. Decorated in gold, crystal, and satin, it was a room that spoke of Spike's vanity, and gave a hint of what the woman inside would undoubtedly be like as well. As a unit they stood just inside the elevator, listening for any movement. What they heard was the beat of a heart.  
  
Marcus's harsh whisper cut through the silence. "He left his woman unguarded and asleep?"  
  
From behind, a few of the Childer scoffed, but Darres silenced them with a glare. "Listen." The room once again became silent as they followed his orders. In the wake of the stillness, he answered the question. "Her heart labors. She is ill. He's left her under duress no doubt. We will complete our mission and add as little more as possible." He turned and fixed his second with ice blue eyes. "The plan has changed, I will take the woman. Marcus, coordinate the efforts of the others and the note; we'll meet back up at the car." At the nod of wheat blond hair, Darres walked purposefully into the room and towards the beating heart.  
  
She fought her way to wakefulness. Something around her wasn't right. Opening her eyes, Willow looked towards the door, her enhanced senses making the room like twilight instead of pitch black. She heard what sounded like fabric against fabric, and focused her hearing on that sound as she struggled to sit up. Her magic was so far beyond her now it was painful; a reminder that she was vulnerable in this life even with Spike's protection.  
  
Silently, she lifted her hand to wipe away the sweat that stung her eyes as it trickled from her hairline. She was so ill, nothing looked right, things seemed to move in the shadows, while the room itself rocked slowly back and forth as she tried to focus on the door. One shaking hand stole to rest across her stomach as a wave of nausea attacked.  
  
Leaning forward she allowed a gentle rocking to ease her fears and discomfort. She didn't hear or see the movement as much as she sensed it, and her body went still and silent as her eyes looked up and directly into the icy blue of a vampire that was not Spike.  
  
For a long moment they simply stared at each other, and she got the impression he was startled that she had found him in the inky blackness. Her first instinct was to scream, her second was to run, but without the strength, both were futile. Instead, she opened her mouth and spoke calmly, with an air of authority that came from the being she would become.  
  
"Who sent you?"  
  
To her surprise, the vampire before her bowed deeply at the waist, a sign of great respect that was reflected on his face once he rose. When he spoke it was with an Old World accent that could have filled a million fantasies. "The White Queen requests your presence until such time as your mate returns to claim you." He arched an eyebrow then, "I would suggest that you do not fight. In your condition it could only do you more damage."  
  
She was surprised by the concern, but refused to show it. Instead, Willow turned her body to face him, refusing when the vampire stepped forward to offer assistance. "Who are you?" She asked hoarsely, the small amount of movement taxing.  
  
His voice was a deep baritone, but it was magical to hear. "Who I am is not important."  
  
Willow shook her head. "It's important to me. I like to know who's kidnapping me." She looked up at him and again locked their eyes, refusing to release him until he answered.  
  
"My name is Darres, head of security for the White Queen, Elizabeth."  
  
Willow smiled then, a true smile. "Well, I suppose if I couldn't make it she would send an escort to pick me up." She reveled in the neutral expression that belayed his shock. "If you wait, Spike will be back shortly." Closing her eyes, she pressed them tightly together as another wave of pain radiated through her body.  
  
Cool hands brushed against her cheeks, cooling her feverish skin. "You are ill, Lady Willow. Allow me to escort you to White Stone, we have healers that can attend to you there."  
  
With limited options, Willow offered a nod before closing her eyes against the nausea as he swept her up into his arms. "As if I have a choice," she mumbled, too tired to ring her arms around his neck.  
  
The smile was in his voice. "You do not, Lady Willow, but the concern is genuine. You will not be harmed, and I will have our healers look you over immediately."  
  
Again she nodded. "Spike?"  
  
Darres gave a soft laugh. "Rest assured Lady, your mate will know exactly where to find you."  
  
"What's wrong with her?"  
  
He'd known the moment she'd been brought into the house; everyone had known. The pain-filled screams had alerted the entire household, and Angelus had run out of the library just in time to see Darres spirit her quickly into a Quiet Room; but the screaming did not stop.  
  
Darres had come to fetch him ten minutes later, and now as he looked down at the pale, sweat covered face of the woman that bore Spike's mark, he knew something was terribly, horribly wrong with her.  
  
"To be honest, Master Angelus, we do not know. She resists our aid even in her weakened condition." There were five mages in the room, three of them legendary. To hear Barak admit he had no idea--the situation was bad.  
  
In her sleep Willow moaned, her body weakly thrashing against the white satin sheets that made her look all the more pale. Tears mingled with sweat, and he found himself brushing them from her cheeks, his hand shaking.  
  
Turning, he looked to Darres. "I have a hard time believing Spike would have left her in this condition." He made it a statement, filled with equal parts doubt and concern.  
  
The much older vampire shook his head. "She was not at all like this until we neared White Stone. About a mile out her breathing and heart rate became erratic. When we entered through the shield, that is when she began to scream." Darres turned to once again look at Willow, a concerned expression on his face. "Once she began, she would not stop. I fear she is in a great deal of pain, and yet I cannot understand why."  
  
From the doorway, came their answer as Elizabeth swept in, a long, multi-colored silk dress hanging about her frame. "Her body seeks to establish a balance that it cannot reach while above the widest Hellmouth in the world." She glided around Angelus and rested her elegant hand across Willow's forehead, her fingertips moving in a soothing motion. "Not at all the way I wanted to meet you, Little Queen." She sighed, an airy sound of summer wind through spring leaves. "She needs blood," she said, her gaze sweeping around to lock with his. "She needs the blood of her line, and Spike's blood is too diluted to provide for her; it must be yours."  
  
Startled, Angelus looked down at the girl who now seemed a little more at ease as Elizabeth caressed her cheek lightly. "Spike has claimed her, marked her. To even attempt to give her my blood--"  
  
"Would most likely make him hate you for the rest of your unlife." She stated, her nature blasé at best. "However, there are only two options. One is that she leave this place; and in her current condition, she wouldn't survive the journey. The second is to balance her system, fill her body with as much evil as it can withstand; otherwise the imbalance will kill her. As you are Spike's Grandsire, you're blood contains the same demon. If any of the others were to offer their blood in your place, the two demons would killer her in moments as they fought for dominance." She leaned forward, her eyes holding his captive with her will alone. "No, Angelus, it is your blood or her death, there is no other options."  
  
He was quiet for a moment before he shook his head. "No. I won't betray William this way. There has to be another way; something we've over looked."  
  
Elizabeth pulled away from him, walked behind him and turned to stare up at the molded ceiling. "I wondered when the great Angelus would become the Irish Coward I always knew him to be." Rage. The killing kind. One that had cost many a village in his youth. It consumed him like fire to a reaped field and before he knew it he was upon her. His hands like claws, his fangs bared, he went right for her throat, his claws digging into her beautiful dress and reducing it to shreds.  
  
Darres never moved. He didn't have too. With one bejeweled hand, Elizabeth caught Angelus about the neck and lifted him off the ground. Her expression smiling up at him, mocking him. But he was beyond caring, beyond anything except the desperation of his situation, and the constant pain of his eternal existence. Hissing and spitting, his hands reached for her; reached to rip that mocking smile right off her beautiful face.  
  
She turned to Darres. "They're so temperamental when they're this young. I'd forgotten how lucky I was to have such wise and tested help." She smiled sweetly, "I thank you for your centuries of service Darres." The dark haired man with ice blue eyes bowed at the waist but did not comment.  
  
"Now for you, Angelus." She said, shaking him like a rag doll until he grew silent. "What is all this about? I offer you the means to protecting the mate of your Childe and this is how you repay me? Tsk, tsk, going for the throat no less, one might actually think you thought you could harm me." Slowly she put him down so that his feet touched the ground. She released him once Darres had both of his arms securely behind his back. "Now, speak."  
  
His eyes flashed gold as he snarled at her. "You think this is a game, Elizabeth, but it is not! To give her my blood will leave a mark on her Spike will never be able to erase! He'll despise me for all time, hunt me until I am dust!" He snarled again, lunging at her only to be held back by Darres's strong grip. "I come here to unite my family, not have my Childe denounce me and begin a Blood Hunt!"  
  
Her hand shot up quickly, grabbing his chin so his eyes could not escape her. "Listen well, Angelus. This girl," she pointed one long black fingernail at Willow, "holds a great deal of power. She is not someone to be trifled with. I care not for your ridiculous family squabbles. Spike may kill you, or he may not, it is of no concern to me. However, this little Queen, is someone I would very much like to owe me a Blood Debt. Therefore, you'll give her the blood she needs to survive and damn the consequences." With a sudden pull, she dragged Angelus within inches of her face. "Or, my little angel, I'll send you back to hell, for the last time."  
  
With a shove, she threw him against the bed frame, the wood splintering under his weight. When he looked up, Elizabeth was staring at the waif with flame hair. "Believe me Angelus, this is for the best." She paused, as if to consider her next words, her nature suddenly caring as she looked down at Willow. "She will indeed be someone you'll want on your side during a fight." Those blue eyes swung up and locked with his. "Now slit your wrist and do something right for a change; save your Childe's mate." And with that, she turned, her shredded dress floating on the current she caused as she exited the room, the mages and Darres following in her wake.  
  
The demon mask falling slowly from his face, Angelus turned to look down at Willow. She was in pain, it was easy to see and hear as she continued to fight against this thing trying to kill her. He didn't profess to truly understanding what Elizabeth meant about "balance" but he had no doubts about a Queen's convictions towards obtaining and holding Blood Debts. If she thought Willow was worthy of one, then Willow truly was something special.  
  
But Angelus knew first hand what could happen if a human girl shared blood with more than one vampire. True, it wasn't that bad so long as the two vampires came from the same bloodline, but Willow would always be connected to him, always, and William--he'd never forgive him.  
  
All his GrandChilde had ever wanted was someone to call his own. Spike had wanted it with Drusilla, and he'd ruthlessly taken it away, taunting William with the knowledge that Drusilla would never be his. He'd made Spike the cold, heartless killer he was today, killed the poet that had so enticed him all those years ago.  
  
Now again, he'd be force to take something from his Childe.  
  
It wasn't fair!  
  
Rage filled him once again, so that he allowed the demon to come forth. Lifting the end table, he hurled it across the room in a shattering of glass and the sickening sound of splintering wood. He wanted to howl, he wanted to scream at the injustice of having the means to finding William, and knowing he'd lose him because of it. This wasn't what he'd planned at all!  
  
"Is Willow gonna be ok?"  
  
Xander. The door was opened only a crack, but Angelus leashed the demon before he could frighten his lover further. Taking an unnecessary breath, he turned, the tension leaving his body. With his hand, he indicated Xander should enter. "She will be, Xander. I need to help her first, but she will be."  
  
When they'd brought her in screaming, Xander had followed suit, shouting at the top of his lungs that he needed to see Willow, he had to see his best friend. Angel had been hard pressed to keep the boy in their rooms when Darres had come to fetch him, but he'd promised that once he knew what was going on, he'd have Xander brought here. Obviously, Elizabeth agreed that Xander should be present.  
  
"What do you have to do?" the boy asked.  
  
Dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a navy blue shirt, Xander rounded the bed opposite him to sit on the edge, his hand immediately taking possession of Willow's. "Will it hurt her? I don't want her hurt."  
  
Angel shook his head and then moved to sit on the bed as well, taking Willow's other hand; noting that it seemed to twitch and tick ever so slightly in her pain. "It won't hurt her, no. It'll make her feel better, or so I've been told." He reached across the dying woman and brushed back a lock of Xander's hair--it was getting so long now. "But it means she and I will always be connected in some way. It means she'll share my blood, and that's a very powerful thing, Xander. It's not to be entered into lightly."  
  
Absorbing the information, he nodded. "But giving her your blood will make her better, right?"  
  
Angel offered a sad smile. "Yes, it'll make her better. But it'll make things harder for us in the long run. Spike will be enraged that I gave her my blood. He'll try to take her away, of that I'm sure. Xander, it means things could get very ugly and dangerous before this is over."  
  
He was startled when the boy laughed, really laughed in a way he hadn't in over six months, in almost 9, in almost the year since Willow had been taken by William. The look Xander gave him was priceless, "Honestly Angel, I fought against vampires with super strength and killer shark teeth; I French kissed a mummy; and I turned into a hyena, I think I can handle one bleached blonde vampire with a appetite for Willow nookie. Now, just do what you gotta do to make her better already."  
  
Startled stupid, Angel stared at his once again coherent partner before shaking himself out of it and nodding. Rolling up his sleeve, he scooted further up the bed and delicately brushed a sheen of sweat off Willow's face. His cool skin must have soothed her, because she leaned into the touch; soft moans of relief emanating from her chest.  
  
And then suddenly, it was as if a blinder had been removed from his eyes. Looking down at her, he saw not the mousy Willow who wore sweaters too fuzzy, or overalls to big; in her place was not a girl child, but a woman. Not just any woman either, a woman claimed by a Master as mate, a woman destined to be not just a Childe of his line, but a Queen, a Queen so powerful that even the White Queen of Rome desired a Blood Debt from her. He saw flawless porcelain skin, flaming red hair, and cinnamon eyelashes that crested perfectly structured cheekbones. Under the soaked sheets, her breasts were firm, her body taunt, and everything about her screamed of sex and controlled violence. Beneath his hand on hers, beneath the layers of skin and muscle, in the very essence of her cells, hummed the call of magic. This was no simple girl, not even an accomplished woman, this was a female mage, blessed with the body of a siren, and the power of a god.  
  
She was perfect.  
  
And Spike had claimed her first.  
  
Regret coursed through him. How could he have been so blind? What could have been wrong with him to have chosen the daft Slayer over this work of art before him? Willow had been there almost from the beginning. She'd been Buffy's friend, ally, and confidant--hell, even he'd gone to her for advice. He'd been distracted by retched clothes, and a shy personality, he'd ignored the signs that had been screaming even back then. She was power personified, and it had taken a poet to see what was truly inside.  
  
Xander cleared his throat. "Um, sometime tonight, Angel. Spike's going to bust down that door pretty quick, and you'd better have laid the vampire mojo on Willow by then."  
  
With a shake of his head in regret of what could have been, Angel slid into position behind Willow and used his fangs to slice his wrist open. Bringing his wrist to her mouth he used his other hand to part her lips. A moment later he felt the first pull on his slashed wrist and knew without a doubt she'd fed from William just like this.  
  
One hand slid down onto her hair, gently petting her as Xander slid closer to offered soft encouragements. "You're doing great, Will. Just wait, you'll see, you'll be as good as new. I was thinking we should make a junk food run once you come to your senses. I don't know how you say Twinkie in Italian, but I'm willing to spend all night trying to find out if you are."  
  
The slow, growing feeling of warmth wasn't at all expected. Vampires that gave blood became cold as their body lost its energy source. But within the center of his being came a glowing warmth that slowly radiated from there until he felt encased in heat, warmed as if by the sun itself.  
  
Xander looked up then and caught his eye. "Um, Angel...you're glowing. You know that right?"  
  
He didn't get a chance to answer.  
  
The bedroom door exploded, and from that chaos emerged a Master Vampire with the killing rage in his eyes  
  
William the Bloody had come to reclaim his stolen Queen. 


	3. That's Gotta Hurt!

That's Gotta Hurt

"This is so of the bad. Hold on Willow, I'll be right back." Rising, Xander walked out the now splintered doorframe and looked over the railing into the open foyer one floor below. Well, not exactly over the railing. Spike had slammed Angelus right through it; now it was just a bunch of wood splinters.

Below the house was erupting in chaos. Vampires, mages, servants and even humans were pouring out of doorways and through hallways towards the sound of breaking vases and the inhuman growl of vampire demons.

Looking down, Xander watched as Spike grabbed Angelus by the collar and swung him into a priceless piece of artwork, ripping the picture and destroying the gold frame. He shook his head, hopping that Spike had money to pay for everything he was breaking.

From the corner of his eye he saw Darres and the mages exit a room across the hall. Darres looked neither thrilled nor upset about the goings on downstairs, so Xander had to figure this sort of thing happened a lot here.

Glancing over his shoulder he looked at his best friend, now sleeping peacefully in the large bed. The color was returning to her cheeks, and even from a distance Xander could tell she was feeling better. It wasn't lost on him that it was Angelus's blood that had helped her. He wasn't quite sure what the big deal was, but he was sure that if it had something to do with Spike and Angelus's relationship, Spike would make much too much of a deal out of it.

Sighing, he turned to look back down at the fight below. Maybe it was his military training, or maybe he was just watching the fight closer than most, but he could easily tell that Angelus wasn't putting much effort into this fight.

Every time Spike struck, Angelus blocked, and whenever an opening revealed itself in Spike's defense, the Irishman refused to deliver the punch. They were dancing a dance of death, only Spike was too blinded by rage to see that he was the only one really fighting anyone; Angelus was only defending himself.

Even the masks they wore belied the truth. Spike was in full game face, fangs bared, hands like claws; ripping and tearing. But Angel's face was still human, his face a mixture of concentration and internal suffering.

Shaking his head, Xander turned to take the staircase down into the arena. Angel was throwing the fight because he didn't want to anger Spike, and Spike wasn't throwing a single bunch because he was too blinded by rage to realize he was fighting his GrandSire. Oh, this was such a royal mess; just one big, huge, misunderstanding. Willow was so going to get a kick out of this when she woke up.

A firm hand fell onto his shoulder, preventing him from moving forward another step, while a soft female voice whispered into his ear. "Perhaps the balcony seats are safer for you for the time being my Little Seer. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

Smiling, Xander nodded his head. "Good point, for the first time, my clothes actually look like something out of J. Crew instead of Kmart. On the other hand, they're wrecking your house which I'm pretty sure isn't a good thing."

Elizabeth smiled at him, and circled his shoulders as the staircase shook under the impact of Angelus into the support beam. "Don't trouble yourself about my home, I've been meaning to redecorate anyway. It's not often that we get to witness a fight quite like this. I'm curious as to who's actually going to win." As they approached the railing, she leaned against it, releasing him. "If I were a betting woman, I'd put my purse on Angelus, however, he doesn't seem to be fighting with as much…conviction as I've seen him do so in the past." She turned to look him over. "I wonder how much of that has to do with you, Seer?"

Taking the last step, Xander too leaned against the railing, watching as Spike pulled back and punched Angelus in the face, spraying blood across the white Oriental rug. "If it were up to me, Angelus would have put Spike into a vacuum cleaner a long time ago, but it wasn't meant to be. Now Willow's in love with him, and he's off the Dirtdevil's most wanted. On the other hand, I wouldn't mind knocking some sense into him." Shrugging his shoulders, he turned his back to the railing and rested his elbows against it, turning to smile at the White Queen.

With a little chuckle, Elizabeth turned, leaning her hip against the banister and gifting him with her undivided attention. "This child, Willow, tell me about her."

Nodding, he ran a hand through his hair, tousling it further as another vase broke below them. "She's amazing. She's light where everything else is dark; she's calm when everything around her is chaos. Willow's saved me more times than I ever really noticed until she wasn't there to save me anymore."

"How?" Elizabeth interrupted. "How could that waif of a girl cause so much trouble? To shun a Slayer, to get a Master to fall in love with her, to have another Master chasing her around the world, and somehow wind up a Queen of all things?"

He smiled, let the situation reveal itself in his smile. "Willow's amazing. She's been ignored for so long, now that people are looking at her, she glows." He glanced over his shoulder at the fight. "Look down there," he said, indicating the now tiring fighters. "They fight because one of them loves her, and because the other one needs her. They fight because of Willow, but they'll stop fighting for the same reason." He shrugged when he saw Elizabeth hanging on his words. "It's not really something I can explain. Spend ten minutes with Willow. Ten minutes with her and you'll know you're in the presence of someone unlike anyone else in the world."

Over the sound of breaking glass, Elizabeth stated the obvious. "You're in love with her."

He glanced at her, and then looked down at his bare feet, before looking at the empty wall before him and nodding. "Spend ten minutes with her and you will be to; she has that effect on people." He turned towards her then, realizing suddenly that she was a very small woman--she barely came up to his shoulder. "The important thing is, I know my place with Willow. I'm the best friend, and a few months ago, I let her down. That won't happen again." He smiled, "We all have our part to play in this, I know my part, do you know yours?"

She smiled then, blood red lips parting to reveal snow-white teeth. "But of course, Seer, I'd be a fool if I didn't, and I am anything but a fool." With a nod she turned and ascended the stairs until she was standing before the destroyed banister. With an adorable smile she sat down on the landing and threw her legs over the side, watching the fight wind down below.

Shaking his head, Xander leaned over the banister and yelled into the crowd. "Hey Spike, seen any good movies lately?"

The move worked. Unbalanced by the interruption, the blond fumbled and swung hard but too high. The force spun him, and Angelus quickly locked both of his arms behind his back.

Enraged, Spike thrashed, doing his best to upend Angelus and drive his elbow into his Sire's gut. But the battle was over, both participants were exhausted, and despite Spike's best efforts, he couldn't break free from Angel's hold.

That's when the clapping started.

All eyes lifted to the second story as Elizabeth--her dress flittering on the wind from the shattered windows, sat clapping, a large smile on her face. "That was brilliant, both of you. I do hope you're feeling ever so much better, I know I am. Male aggression is such a joy to watch when you're bored, don't you agree?" Her smile continued but as Xander watched, Spike's demeanor grew darker by the second, and Angelus didn't seem much happier.

Pushing away from the banister, Xander covered the remaining steps to the landing and waited, catching Angel's eye before looking up at the now rising Queen. He could hear Spike growling low in his throat as Elizabeth rose and turned, going to Willow's open door before graspping the door handle. She threw a wicked smile over her shoulder before silently pulling the door closed; and with the attention of the entire room, she walked purposefully down the stairs before crossing the entranceway to stand before the still restrained Spike.

Her smile disappeared when she fixed her gaze on Angelus. "Let him go."

For one long moment, Angel hesitated. Xander understood, if he let Spike go, odds were the younger vampire would rush the Queen, and since he'd traveled a long way to reunite with Spike, watching his Childe dusted probably wasn't very high on his "Things to See in Rome" list. But when Elizabeth's cool eyes fell again on his, Angelus had no choice but to release Spike's arms.

To the surprise of everyone in the room, Spike fell to one knee before the Queen, his human mask slipping back into place. When he spoke, his voice was soft and filled with respect. "I beg your forgiveness Elizabeth, White Queen of Rome, for not announcing my visit earlier. Circumstances beyond my control prevented me from coming to pay my respects."

Xander was in total shock. Where was the growling, fighting, yelling Spike of just a moment ago? Behind the prostrating blond, Angelus was still a multitude of cuts and bruises, but Spike was calm and collected, waiting patiently for the word to rise.

Something was up.

Taking the Queen's continued silence as a cue, Xander made his way over to stand beside Angelus. His partner touched his lower back briefly, rubbing his thumb along the muscles a few times before pulling away to stand ready.

As he looked, Elizabeth cocked her head. "Well now, I was prepared to thoroughly punish you, William, but it seems you've found a way to weasel out of that--don't you always though? Oh well, another time then, for now I believe we have a little matter to discuss over a bottle of Blood Wine." She looked up at Angelus. "You'll join us of course, and your companion too; I have a feeling there is much we all have to discuss." She indicated Spike should rise, before walking to stand before her dark haired chief of security. "Darres, show William to the second floor so that he can check on his mate, then direct him to the library. I want you to stand guard over the girl, and at the first sign of distress you're to send word. Under no circumstance are you to leave her unguarded, do you understand?"

Darres nodded as Spike walked to the bottom of the staircase, eager to reunite with Willow. "It will be done, my Queen."

"Thank you, Darres." She looked over her shoulder. "Angelus, Xander, this way please, we'll await William in the library." And with that, she walked away.

Sighing, Xander watched Darres and Spike ascend the staircase before he turned to offer Angel a watery smile. "That went well, I think."


End file.
